Page 79 of An Earl Like You
Her father’s mouth twisted but he said nothing.
“What about my choice?” She clapped one fist to her breast. “What about my feelings?”
“You love him.”
“But when I fell in love with him, he was only acting, on your orders.” She put up one hand to stop his reply. “It was an arranged marriage, only I didn’t know it. How could you do that to me?”
“Lilibeth,” he said, “I wanted you to be happy. If left to yourself, you would have spent your entire life here, fussing over the rosebushes and coddling stray dogs. You needed something to pry you loose.”
He might be right. Eliza had never wanted to face another London Season. But while she might be able to forgive her father for manipulating her into meeting a gentleman, it was much harder to forgive him on Hugh’s behalf. Even deep in debt, Hugh had been an eligible match—blindingly handsome, charming and decent, in the prime of life and possessed of an old and illustrious title. He could have courted and married any number of heiresses or wealthy women in London.
“Perhaps,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “you were right about me. I didn’t know it disturbed you so terribly that I wasn’t married. I took all your teasing about that as... well, as teasing. But you had no right, none at all, Papa, to do that to Hugh.”
“He didn’t come out too badly,” muttered her father.
Eliza put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear another word! You lied to me, Papa. You tricked me and said nothing as I fell in love with a man who was only calling on me because you made him. Do you have any idea how stupid I feel? How mortified I felt when Richard Nesbit, a complete stranger, told me that youboughtmy husband for me?”
“Nesbit!” Her father’s expression turned furious.
“He said he sold you some debt himself,” she said, her voice trembling.
“That bloody scoundrel. He ought to know to keep his mouth closed. I’ll deal with him, see if I don’t,” he vowed vengefully.
And Eliza gave up. He didn’t see anything wrong with what he’d done. She had fallen in love with Hugh and Hugh had eventually fallen in love with her, so that made everything acceptable in his eyes. Even if they hadn’t cared for each other, she would still be a married woman, a countess, and perhaps that’s really all he wanted. There was a sharp pain in her chest, as if a deep fissure had split across her heart. “Good-bye, Papa,” she said quietly. She walked by him and out the door.
“Lilibeth,” he called, following. “Wait a moment. Eliza!”
She kept walking.
“Elizabeth,” he said firmly. “Listen to me.”
“I did,” she retorted. “What you said offended me.”
“But I meant well,” he cajoled. “I only wanted to be a good father. Your mother would be appalled if I did nothing. What else was I to do?”
Eliza shook her head and walked on. The hack she’d hired in London was still waiting, the driver drowsing on the box.
Her father strode past her and slapped one hand against the carriage door. “You’re not going off in this,” he said tersely. “What was Hastings thinking to let you take a ramshackle hired hack?”
Her breath shuddered in her lungs. “Ichose it.”
He grunted. “You’ll let William take you home in the morning.” He fished a guinea from his pocket and tossed it to the driver. “Go on, man.”
Eliza wanted to scream at him. At least Hugh didn’t overrule her every word. At least Hugh listened to what she said and respected her feelings. He, at least, had been honest with her when confronted.
“Come back inside,” said her father, persuasive again. “Stay the night in your old room. In the morning you can shout at me some more, like your mother would have done, and I promise to take my scolding quietly.”
She didn’t want to, but she needed time to think. Without a word she went back into the house. Her father seemed to sense it was best not to speak, so he let her go in peace.
Back in her childhood room, Eliza paced restlessly. Who could advise her? Because she hadn’t the slightest idea what to do. Even if her friends were here, what help would they be? Never had she wished more for her mother to be here still.
She sat on the bed and her eyes fell on the sampler she’d sewn at the age of ten. Her stitches had been so carefully placed.This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.It had spoken to her young soul, and she’d chosen it over any number of Bible verses, with the help of the kind and patient headmistress at school.
She inhaled in discovery. Of course.
After a restless night’s sleep, she rose at dawn and slipped quietly from the house. She did not want to shout at her father some more. She didn’t want to speak to him at all right now. In the stable she roused William and asked him to prepare the traveling chaise. Within half an hour they were off, the house behind her quiet and still.
Chapter 30
